


NFWMB

by BlackthornPyre4UrEnemies



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Canon, Romance, Songfic, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackthornPyre4UrEnemies/pseuds/BlackthornPyre4UrEnemies
Summary: Given that my username came from this song, this fic is one I've wanted to write for a long time. Two headcanons I have regarding elsamaren, inspired by NFWMB, by Hozier.The TL;DR of it is this: Just two essays begging Disney to make Elsa and Honeymaren canon.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 54





	NFWMB

**Author's Note:**

> I will say it again - there is no plot here. Also, fluff is not one of the tags.  
> But, also, this fic means a lot to me, so I may continue to edit and re-upload it if I ever get a chance to improve on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference for this headcanon: A deleted Frozen 2 scene showing Anna watching Elsa’s nightmare play out in ice in their bedroom.

She has been told that Queen Elsa wears gloves. But the Fifth Spirit she knows runs barefoot whenever she can.

She has been told that Queen Elsa uses her powers only when necessary, to serve others, to protect others, and to entertain others. But she has caught the Fifth Spirit conjure whimsical ice sculptures and intricate snowflakes purely for herself when she thinks no one is looking.

She has been told, by none other than Her (Former) Majesty herself, that Queen Elsa is a light sleeper. But the Fifth Spirit currently snoring in their tent suggests otherwise.

Honeymaren wishes the world sees the Fifth Spirit like she sees her. But as the blonde woman snuggles deeper into her embrace, her gentle snores settling into deep, levelled breathing, Honeymaren knows no one could ever make the Fifth Spirit so at peace to see her like this.

Honeymaren has never feared death. But in that moment, she fears it more than she’s ever feared anything, as a vision of Elsa unable to sleep, alone in her bed, fills her mind and grips at her heart. She will meet her end, one day, but she swears, not before Elsa. She will bear the burden of grief, of mourning, herself.

And therein lies the crux of a conundrum that keeps her up at night, like it does on this night. Because she also vows, paradoxically, that she will give her life for this woman, that she will do anything, to keep her safe.

She knows it is arrogant of her to feel this way. She shouldn’t feel protective. Elsa doesn’t need protecting. She is the Fifth Spirit. She tamed Wind. She survived the Dark Sea. A volatile fiery beast is her friend. Earth Giants bow to her. And above all, she has dived down deep into Ahtohallan, and returned reborn.

But even without powers, her Elsa didn’t need protecting. Nothing gets past her Elsa. Nothing fucks with her Elsa.

Her Elsa shifted in her arms, and Honeymaren looked down to study her. A frown was forming on Elsa’s face. Honeymaren ran a thumb over a brow, trying to soothe the frown away. It only deepened. These days, Elsa sleeps deeply enough for dreams and nightmares. One is more common than the other, for the Fifth Spirit has many fears: The wrath of the elemental spirits, caged for three decades, determined to punish the descendant of their captor. The fate of her kingdom, thrust upon her sister so suddenly. The burden of knowledge that comes with consulting Ahtohallan. These fears play out in her dreams. And her magic plays these dreams out above her head for anyone in her tent to see.

Honeymaren never watches them. She’ll wait for Elsa to tell her about them in the morning. And the stories Elsa tells are terrifying. The Nokk in her nightmare attempts to drown her for riding him to stop the destruction of Arendelle, a retaliation by the spirits he thinks the kingdom sorely deserves. In another nightmare, a kingdom called the Southern Isles threatens revenge. Some of these dreams are recollections of events stored in Ahtohallan - More of Grandfather’s misdeeds, cruel and terrible. Her mother, sobbing alone to herself in an empty castle, missing the Northuldra. Her father, begging the advisors not to build that dungeon in the castle, with those metal cuffs for her magic hands. Her sister, turning into ice above her, over and over again.

On these nights, Honeymaren closes her eyes to give Elsa her privacy. But she holds Elsa close, even as the temperature plummets, even as frost creeps towards them and permeates the pelts, even as deadly icicles rain down around them.

Elsa hates it when Honeymaren doesn’t run away in such situations. She scolds Honeymaren for being reckless, for having a death wish. But as Elsa trembles in Honeymaren’s arms, not from the cold, Honeymaren knows she will never forgive herself if she leaves Elsa alone in this tent.

The first frost stings her foot and she curls her leg, wrapping it around Elsa to draw from some of Elsa’s warmth. The temperature drops and her breaths come out in white puffs. She knows it’s time to clam her eyes shut before she sees anything more.

Indistinct voices fill the tent. If she can she will also cover her ears. But her hands are occupied with holding Elsa, and she needs to hear for sounds that will warn of any incoming danger. The pitter-patter of snow becomes softer as surfaces become covered enough to cushion the sound of further snowfall. A woman screams. Elsa flinches. Honeymaren runs a hand down Elsa’s back.

Light, hot, small feet trickle across her shoulder before she feels a burst of warmth. Her eyelids burn red and she knows the small fireplace inside the tent has been lit. Bruni must have come in.

A gust of wind runs through and the snow weighing her blanket down is lifted, and Honeymaren knows Gale has slipped in to carry the snowfall outside.

The spirits are wild. The mist has been lifted, and they run free. So, they fight each other. They fight people in their way. And sometimes, they fight Elsa. But most of the time, they are on Elsa’s side. And whatever Elsa feels, they feel too. On nights like this, they do what they can to help their kind.

Things get more treacherous. Honeymaren hears a _whoosh_ by her eardrum and chances a peek. Her heart nearly stops. An ice dagger has pierced her pillow a hair’s breadth away from where her head lay. Soon, things will get out of control. Elsa needs to wake up.

She shakes the blonde gently. Elsa whimpers and burrows deeper into Honeymaren. Elsa is drenched in sweat despite the cold.

“Elsa?”

She shakes her a little harder this time.

“No… please…”

“Elsa?”

“Leave her alone…”

“Elsa!”

“Take me, I’ll do anything.”

It is no use, Elsa is lost to her. A gallop of hooves outside her tent and Honeymaren knows Nokk has come to check out the commotion. The sound of the hooves fades and Honeymaren knows Nokk has left to call for help.

In a minute the ground beneath them rumbles. The glass lamp by their bed falls to the floor with a crash. Elsa shoots up, sitting bolt upright, panting. Nokk has summoned the Earth Giants, and their stomping has finally woken her.

Elsa surveys the damage in her tent, eyes widening with dread. Frost is everywhere, glass shards litter the floor. Bruni burnt a trail on his way to the fireplace and parts of the furniture are singed and still smoking. The whole situation is dangerous, especially to anyone who isn’t Elsa. Elsa’s tent is far beyond the outskirts of the Northuldra settlement for precisely this reason. She is suited to being alone. Sharing a bedroom with Anna in her childhood left Anna with a shot of ice magic to the head. Heaven knows what living with Honeymaren now will do to her. But no matter what she has said she cannot stop Honeymaren from joining her here.

She turns to Honeymaren, who is also sitting up now, about to wrap herself around Elsa. Elsa looks past her and gasps when she sees the ice dagger through Honeymaren’s pillow. She scrambles out of the bed.

“Honey! I’m so sorry.”

Elsa waves her arms once. Nothing happens. She closes her eyes, steadies her breathing, and tries again. The remnant ice and frost in the tent disappear.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asks.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

Elsa nods, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands watching Honeymaren.

“Rest,” Honeymaren gets up from the bed, “I’ll make us some tea.”

Elsa sits on the edge of their bed as she watches Honeymaren set a kettle of water on Bruni’s fire. They watch the water boil in silence.

“I dreamt about you,” Elsa suddenly says.

Honeymaren stills, keeping her eyes on the kettle of water so as not to betray her surprise. This has never happened before, or at least, to Honeymaren’s knowledge. She only knows about the dreams Elsa tells her, despite being there for most of them. Those Elsa tells Honeymaren are always about the spirits or her family. Honeymaren wonders if this dream counts as a deviation from the norm. Or with how close they’ve been lately, maybe not.

Honeymaren brushes her thoughts aside and busies herself with preparing two cups of tea, waiting for Elsa to continue but not pushing her. She pours the water into the cups and one of the cups leaks from a crack. Another casualty in the aftermath of Elsa’s nightmare.

“Oops,” Honeymaren giggles, holding it up to inspect the crack closer, watching as the tea continues to dribble out.

“I’ll take that cup,” Elsa offers, shooting a bolt of ice towards it, aiming towards the crack.

In her sleep-adled state, she misses and the ice, a shard bigger than she intends, collides into Honeymaren’s wrist, knocking the cup out of her hand. The cup shatters to the floor as Honeymaren hisses in pain.

“Honeymaren!” Elsa exclaims, “I’m so sorry!”

A flash of bright red in Honeymaren’s palm catches Elsa’s eyes and she curses. She doesn’t seem to be able to stop hurting the people she loves.

Honeymaren notices Elsa’s panic, mostly from the sudden chill in the air inside the tent. She tries to keep her smile casual, even as her hand throbs.

“I’m fine,” she insists, gesturing to the kettle, “good thing we have clean water.”

Elsa gets up from the bed to fish for a clean piece of cloth.

“May I?” she asks, offering a hand for Honeymaren to take.

Honeymaren nods, placing her hand on top of Elsa’s.

Elsa cradles her injured palm, running a thumb along the cut, inspecting if any shards are left in the wound. With her other hand, she dips the cloth into the kettle. Honeymaren braces herself for the sting of the hot water, but when the damp cloth touches Honeymaren’s palm, it is cool.

Honeymaren thanks the spirits for Elsa’s powers.

With the tenderness Honeymaren never expects from a being as formidable as the Fifth Spirit of legend, Elsa tends to her wound, cleaning it and bandaging it up in more white cloth. But Honeymaren is not fooled by Elsa’s calm façade.

The temperature is back to normal in the tent, but she notices the hardness in Elsa’s eyes, her true feelings locked away, as she squints in focus on Honeymaren’s palm. She notices the tremor in Elsa’s fingers against her skin. She notices as Elsa takes in her botton lip into her mouth, biting it to keep herself centered. Elsa is not okay. But she is doing everything she can to keep that from Honeymaren.

“This used to hurt when others do this,” Honeymaren says, trying to make Elsa feel better, “it’s soothing when you clean my wound with cold water.”

Elsa says nothing in reply.

“I love your powers,” Honeymaren adds.

The cool, pale fingers around Honeymaren’s hand clench at that, and Honeymaren’s wound throbs, a sharp reminder of what else Elsa’s powers can do. Elsa takes a deep breath, holding back her reflexive rejection of Honeymaren’s praise, before gently returning Honeymaren’s hand to her lap and letting go. She stands.

“Excuse me.”

With a wave of her hand, she is fully dressed and she walks out of her tent.

Honeymaren wants to follow immediately after her, but she is not dressed and doesn’t own magical clothes, so she has to struggle to get into her coat with one hand.

-

She finds the Fifth Spirit at the first place she looks, standing alone along the coast of the Dark Sea. The harsh wind sends specks of icy seawater shooting against her face, but Honeymaren stops herself from bringing a hand up to shield her face from the stinging assault. She doesn’t want Elsa to think it hurts to be here with her.

Elsa doesn’t acknowledge her presence, continuing to face towards the dark horizon, her eyes closed as she savours the wind billowing through her hair as though it was a gentle breeze. Honeymaren wonders if they are waiting for Nokk to transport her to Ahtohallan, but the water spirit never arrives.

“So, uh…, is Nokk coming anytime soon?” Honeymaren finally asks, feeling herself start to shiver.

Ahtohallan is too cold for anyone other than Elsa, but Honeymaren often sees her off. She figures Elsa might be heading over there tonight, as she often does after a nightmare.

“No. I’m not going over. Ahtohallan tells me nothing about the future.”

Honeymaren now knows two things about Elsa’s nightmare - It is about her, and it is set in the future. She yearns to know more, but she is also afraid, given what she has already gleaned from the state of their tent. They stand in silence, Honeymaren waiting patiently for Elsa to be ready to talk, even as she is freezing. She stuffs her fingers into the pockets of her coat and buries her chin into her collar.

“The first time I crossed the Dark Sea, I sent Anna away in a boat before I came here alone.”

Honeymaren doesn’t know why Elsa is bringing this up.

“I know.”

“Anna was so angry. Rightfully so.”

“I know.”

“I have apologised to Anna. And I do feel sorry. But honestly, I will do it again if I have to.”

That Honeymaren does not know. Anna was really hurt by Elsa pushing her away, and from what she knows of the feisty redhead she thinks Anna would have made Elsa promise never to do something like that again.

“Anna would have died trying to cross the Dark Sea,” Elsa justifies, “and if she ever tries to follow me into danger again, I will stop her. I will never put Anna in harm’s way for me.”

Honeymaren frowns, finally seeing where all this is going.

“Elsa…”

“You should have left tonight,” Elsa continues, “when you felt my dream start.”

“We’ve talked about this before. I’m not going anywhere -”

“Yes, but tonight the threat was real. More real than the other dreams because this time I dreamt about you,” Elsa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “That icicle could have killed you. I almost k-…”

Elsa doesn’t dare finish her thought. The pair stand in silence as they let the implications of Elsa’s statement sink in.

“What… uh… what happened to me in your dream, Elsa?”

Elsa says nothing. She continues to stare into the darkness. Honeymaren watches their surroundings closely for any clue as to how Elsa might be feeling. She notices the waves that lap gently at Elsa’s bare feet, and how they crackle and snap as ice upon contact for the briefest moment before melting away and slinking back into the sea. Elsa has become so adept at concealing her fear that this is all the evidence of the storm that rages through her inside.

“Anna and I,” Elsa begins to explain the dream, “we’re two sides of the bridge between people and the spirits. I’ve been trying to figure out what that means. I suppose… she represents people, and I represent the spirits.

“And so sometimes… sometimes in my dreams I wonder if the spirits resent me for being with you.”

Honeymaren tilts her head towards Elsa in concern. The spirits have never demonstrated any ill-will towards her in real life. Why would Elsa think like that?

“Gale, Bruni, Nokk, the earth giants… they don’t have attachments,” Elsa continues, “they’re free.”

Honeymaren’s insides squirm at that.

“Elsa, I never want to make you feel trapped.”

Elsa detects Honeymaren’s hurt and turns to her.

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” Elsa sighs, “Honeymaren, I don’t feel trapped with you. It’s just that…”

“What is it?”

“In my dream earlier… the spirits were restless. They felt I was becoming too… too… I don’t know… too _human_ by being with you.”

“But you are human.”

Elsa shrugs, and with a delicate wave of a hand, sets off a small flurry of snowflakes between them.

“Not quite,” Elsa replies, as though the snow she just conjured proves her point.

Honeymaren crosses her arms, ready to rebut. Elsa continues to speak before she can.

“Anyway, they felt I was no longer on their side. That I was not being who I truly am, who I truly can be if there wasn’t anyone… to hold me back. So they… they made me let you go…”

Elsa clams her eyes shut with a frown, as the images in her nightmare flashes again in her mind, vivid and horrible. The wind around them howls as Elsa loses some control over the weather.

Honeymaren lets her arms fall to her side, feeling heartbroken.

“Is that what you feel?” she asks in a small voice, “that you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

Elsa’s eyes snap open.

“I do, Honeymaren, it’s the spirits…”

“It’s not them,” Honeymaren cuts in, her voice firmer, “It’s _your_ dream, Elsa.”

“It’s just that…”

“The spirits are wild and free. They don’t let anyone tell them what to do. You don’t control them. Likewise, they don’t control you. You’re a spirit too.”

“ _Exactly,_ Honey. I _am_ a spirit.”

Honeymaren throws her hands in the air in exasperation. Elsa is pushing her away. As always. Honeymaren has always tried to be patient, tried to understand. But it hurts to be the only one trying to make this work.

Elsa reaches for one of her hands, the bandaged one, and cradles it gently in her palms. Honeymaren lets her, she doesn’t pull her hand away. She’s hungry for the warmth of Elsa’s touch. Elsa runs a finger down the cloth, her expression pained as the memory of why Honeymaren is injured replays in her mind.

“I am a spirit,” Elsa repeats, very softly, “Honeymaren, I’m meant to be alone. I’m dangerous.”

A chill that has nothing to do with the cold seaside wind runs down Honeymaren’s spine. In desperation, she clenches her hand around Elsa’s finger, wincing as the action causes her wound to bite. Elsa tries to pull away at Honeymaren’s pain, but Honeymaren grabs Elsa’s hand even tighter. Honeymaren feels frost start to form and burn against her skin as Elsa tugs her hand away, but she doesn’t let go.

“Of course you’re dangerous!” Honeymaren exclaims, as her hand clamps harder around Elsa’s, “You think I don’t know that? I grew up learning about the Fifth Spirit. I’d be more afraid if you aren’t dangerous. Who will look after the forest?”

Elsa eyes widen at Honeymaren’s retort. She thought Honeymaren would deny the danger of being with her. Her loved ones, Anna in particular, have always tried to emphasise how Elsa was _not_ dangerous, how she was _not_ a monster. How someone who loves like her and is as kind as her can’t possibly mean any harm. How love always thaws.

But when Elsa finally yanks her hand out of Honeymaren’s grasp, causing Honeymaren to yelp in pain as several frostbites began to form on her palm, Elsa is reminded of how love doesn’t always solve everything. In fact, her love for Honeymaren has done nothing but put Honeymaren in harm’s way.

Honeymaren stares at her palm, breathing hard as she surveys her injuries. Elsa clenches and unclenches her freed fist, willing her powers to retreat even as fear surges through her. She has become good at this, separating her emotions from her powers, but not good enough, evidently.

“Honeymaren, I’m so sorr-”

“Don’t.”

Elsa pauses mid-apology, her mouth hanging open, but unable to get the rest of her words out as she takes in Honeymaren’s furious expression.

“You don’t get to apologise for this,” Honeymaren states sternly.

Elsa thinks she’s broken something between them. It’s over. And it hurts. But perhaps it was for the better. Something a little like relief washes over her.

But then, Honeymaren speaks.

“You’ve warned me. You said you were dangerous. And I agreed. You know, we’ve had this conversation many times. Maybe with different words, different actions, for different reasons. But it always came down to this. You keep showing me how dangerous you can be. And I am still here. I choose to stay. So you don’t get to apologise when you hurt me. It’s not on you anymore.”

“Honeymaren…”

“Why did you come to the Enchanted Forest, Elsa? You didn’t do it to run away from what your powers can do, did you? Is this the North Mountain thing all over again? Because if it is, I am dragging you back to Arendelle this very second.”

Elsa winces.

“Honeymaren, you know it’s not the same thing.”

“Precisely. You are not running away from your powers anymore. You’ve fought too hard to be who you are. So let your powers run free. And I don’t just mean beautiful crystal decorations for the town or figurines for kids or that giant ice wall you conjured to save your kingdom. I mean, the blizzards and the hail and the snowstorms too. And the potentially deadly icicles. And of course, the frostbites.”

Honeymaren waves her frostbitten, cut up, palm in Elsa’s face.

“I don’t think your powers are a gift. They are not a curse too. You are a _spirit of nature,_ Elsa, and nature isn’t good or evil. It isn’t healing or harmful. You are neither a heroine nor a monster. Nature is wild. Just wild. _You_ are wild. That is all.”

Elsa just gapes at her, stunned at how right Honeymaren is. Honeymaren seizes on the opportunity to continue.

“When you told me about your time in the North Mountain… you said you could be yourself there, without hurting anybody. That while you were alone, you were free.”

Honeymaren sighs, “please don’t say you came to the Enchanted Forest to be alone too. I thought you were past that.”

Tears well in Elsa’s eyes.

“Honeymaren…”

Honeymaren reaches forward, still with her injured hand, and takes Elsa’s hand in hers.

“That thing with the ice boat… I get why you have to push Anna away from danger… from you. She’s your _sister_. You will always want to protect her. But you don’t have to protect me.”

She squeezes Elsa’s hand through her painful wounds.

“I don’t want you to protect me.”

Elsa continues to stare at her, eyes fearful and concerned. Honeymaren fixes on a smug smile.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself, Elsa,” she says, changing tact, “I won’t let all that spirit-worshiping get to your head. You can’t protect me even if you tried. I’m Honeymaren Nattura, and I go wherever I want. And I want to be here, with you.”

Elsa breaks into a small laugh at that, tears streaming down as her eyes crinkle with joy.

And finally, _finally_ , Elsa reciprocates, curling her fingers around Honeymaren’s hand, a fingertip tracing patterns over a frostbite, accepting its presence on Honeymaren's skin.

_"If I was born as a blackthorn tree, I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies"_

_**\- Hozier**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Disney, I get it. Elsa doesn't need a romantic relationship. I agree. But while she doesn't need it, how nice would it be for her if she had someone to stand by her side as she deals with her powers and the danger that comes with it? Especially after how she's had to deal with her powers all her life alone? We've got two movies with Elsa pushing others away for their safety so she can embrace her full potential on her own. Now is the perfect opportunity to show even more character growth with Elsa finally letting someone in to share the burden of her powers.
> 
> That person cannot be Anna. Or the rest of her family. Because let's face it. Elsa's dangerous. She's immensely powerful, and with that, comes a certain element of danger. With Anna and Olaf and Kristoff, Elsa still keeps them at a distance. She shows them the pretty parts of her powers, and reins in the rest. I've thought a lot about the ice-boat scene. You, Disney, put that scene after Anna has told Elsa that she'll run into fire after her. After Anna's made Elsa promise that they'll do things together. So I believe that no matter what Anna says, Elsa will always push Anna away to protect her. So Anna can never be the person to stand by Elsa in her most dangerous moments, because she just means too much to Elsa.
> 
> This doesn't mean Honeymaren means less to Elsa. It's just that Elsa meets Honeymaren after Elsa has embraced her powers. Unlike Anna and Elsa, who didn't choose to be each other's sister, Elsa knows Honeymaren is with her willingly, with full knowledge of what her powers can do. Honeymaren sees Elsa as this mythical, powerful, being and still wants to be with her. 
> 
> In conclusion, please make Elsa and Honeymaren canon. Thank you. (But also thank you for Frozen, really.)  
> HAHAHA
> 
> P.S. Also, that's why this song fits, because the lyrics describe a person in complete recognition and awe of the power and danger of their lover. The next chapter will be my second headcanon from the song, regarding what Elsa means to Honeymaren.


End file.
